


XXVIII. The End is Beautiful

by BubblyWashingMachine



Series: Every Little Hurt Counts [febuwhump 2021] [28]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (to season 1), Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Apocalypse (Umbrella Academy), Angst with a Happy Ending, FebuWhump2021, Febuwhump, Gen, Good Sibling Allison Hargreeves, Good Sibling Number Five | The Boy, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Mute Allison Hargreeves, No Romance, POV Allison Hargreeves, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Protective Siblings, Sibling Love, and by guys i mean exclusively allison, apocalypse averted! good job guys, febuwhumpday28, my last one.... emotional, the prompt is 'you have to let me go'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29755851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubblyWashingMachine/pseuds/BubblyWashingMachine
Summary: Allison has a gun.It is an unfamiliar, heavy weight in her trembling hand.And she knows, watching her sister perform the most magnificent song Allison’s ever heard - the music swelling, ebbing and flowing, in waves of beautiful white energy as the building crumbles into dust around them - that she is going to have to use it to do something awful.There has never been enough time....An alternate ending for season one of the Umbrella Academy. At the end of the world, as Vanya's song reaches its devastating crescendo, Allison makes a difference choice.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Luther Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Series: Every Little Hurt Counts [febuwhump 2021] [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137428
Comments: 16
Kudos: 93





	XXVIII. The End is Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Well everyone... I made it! :)
> 
> Thanks so much to all the amazing people who have stuck out this journey with me... okay that sounds really stupid, but. You know what I mean. You're all so nice and friendly and I'm sorry it takes me so long to respond to your comments ^^" I'm gonna do it tomorrow I swear guys, I swear
> 
> Anyway, I hope you find this story a satisfying conclusion to the series, because I sure do! Fitting, to begin and end with Allison. The title has a double meaning obviously but also! is because of the song The End is Beautiful by Jimmy Eat World. pretty much perfectly encapsulates the tone, mood, and vibe of this fic... highly recommend listening to it. It's also on my five and vanya bff playlist ;)
> 
> also I DID re-watch this episode to write this, and i realised that vanya just kinda stops and stands still when she's like, sucking the life out of everyone. I found this a little odd - she legit just stands there unmoving and waits to get shot - so in this version she.... keeps playing instead. ok? ok.
> 
> Enjoy <3

Allison has a gun.

It is an unfamiliar, heavy weight in her trembling hand.

And she knows, watching her sister perform, that she is going to have to use it to do something awful.

Before her on the stage, Vanya is playing the most magnificent song Allison’s ever heard - the music swelling, ebbing and flowing, in waves of beautiful white energy. The building is crumbling into dust around them.

The music is reaching a crescendo, a breaking point, and they are all running out of time. There has never been enough time.

Vanya is a star. She’s self-destructing – about to implode, and take out the whole world with her.

Suspended in the air by threads of blinding light, Allison’s brothers thrash and writhe as Vanya’s power drains the life from them – Allison wonders if Vanya even knows what she’s doing. If she knows they’re there – if she even cares.

Luther howls in pain, his body twisting in the air. The sounds of all her brothers’ screams form an awful harmony with the melody of the violin, a chorus of anguish, a cacophony of suffering.

_Vanya’s killing them._

Allison fights tears, her hair whipping around in the storm that is exploding out of her sister. She doesn’t want to do this. But there’s not enough _time_. She doesn’t have a choice; none of them ever had a choice, did they? This was always going to happen. The air is becoming thin.

A scream tears out of Number Five’s throat, high and panicked, cutting through the music and striking sharply inside Allison’s fluttering heart, and he sounds like he is in unbearable pain, and he sounds _unbelievably_ young.

_He sounds_ , Allison thinks, _like Claire._

Vanya is going to rip them to shreds. Vanya is in so much pain that she’s going to kill everyone and everything, just for a chance to make it stop.

Allison raises the gun. _I’m so, so, sorry._

She can’t.

But she has to.

But – she can’t.

Allison lets the gun fall, and never hears it hit the stage – Vanya’s music is too loud.

She fights against the current, pushing those few steps forward to where she can see Vanya’s face. It’s painful to look at her – she glows so brightly.

Vanya turns her head slightly, stares at her, but doesn’t see. Her eyes are terrifying and empty, and her hands seem to move of their own accord, fingers dancing across the strings, her bow a deadly weapon that slashes across the instrument. She’s like an empty shell. _Oh, God,_ Allison thinks. _What have we done to you?_

_Vanya,_ she mouths, feeling her face crumple, _I’m sorry. I love you._

And she wraps her arms around her little sister and gently pulls her into one last hug. As soon as they touch, Allison feels as if the power will burn her up from the inside – it’s like sticking her hands directly into an electric socket. Yet still, she holds on, even as Vanya keeps playing, her skin and nerves ablaze with the sheer devastating force of it.

But Vanya isn’t draining the life from her – she’s sharing the power.

Allison lets herself cry properly now – for Claire, for her brothers, for herself, for years wasted on bitterness and resentment, for words she never said and now will never get the chance to – and presses a kiss into Vanya’s dark hair, tears dripping down her cheeks, her throat burning. She squeezes her eyes shut.

_I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry._

Vanya, in her arms, shudders.

Allison thinks that if this is how the world ends, there are worse ways to go.

Her ears are ringing so badly that she almost doesn’t notice the music coming to a gradual, stuttering halt, her body still humming with energy.

And then; a whisper.

_“Allison?”_

Allison holds Vanya tighter, feels her sister drop the violin, her arms going slack.

There is the sound of four people falling and hitting the ground, groaning.

Allison sobs. The music has stopped but the power hasn’t gone away – she still feels it, burning under her skin, with nowhere to go. Her senses are dialled up to eleven – everything is too much, too loud, so painful. _Is this what Vanya is feeling too?_ Allison wonders. _Does it hurt her, too?_

“Allison!” Someone yells – Diego. His voice makes her wince. “Get away!”

“Be careful,” Luther says, desperately. “You should move back.”

Allison does not. Vanya stands stiffly, unmoving in her grasp, so small and fragile, yet holding so much power.

“What… Allison…?” She murmurs after a second, shaking her head, and Allison dares to open her eyes.

Klaus, Diego, Luther and Five stand in a defensive circle around them, as if ready to spring into action at any moment. They gaze, with wonder, as the waves of white light that reflect in their eyes pulsate and begin to die down the longer that Vanya lets Allison hold her. The building, shaking around them seconds ago, calms.

Eventually, Vanya reaches up one small hand to Allison’s shoulder blades, dazed, and then she is hugging her back, sobbing violently, the spell broken.

It starts to rain. Heavily. Soon, they are all soaking wet – despite the fact that they are all very much indoors. Allison’s ears are ringing – she hears a thunderstorm form around them, and the pressure inside her begins to ease.

“Allison!” Vanya sobs, choked, her face buried in her sister’s shoulder. “Oh, God, Allison, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it, I’m _sorry_ ,” she wails, and thunder cracks overhead. Water pools around their feet. Allison cannot say anything – she just holds Vanya tighter, rain pouring down her face. She looks up, relief and sorrow and joy overwhelming her, and through the churning rain clouds she spies the full, bright moon, behind a glass window.

Number Five stares, unbothered by the rain. He just stands and gawks at them, his mouth slightly open. Allison smiles at him, and he shuts it.

The seconds pass slowly. She rubs Vanya’s shoulders in a soothing motion, as the smaller woman sobs her heart out and stammers apology after apology.

“Well, this isn’t the apocalypse I was promised,” she hears Klaus mutter after a while, seemingly to himself.

Allison narrows her eyes at him, droplets of water clinging to her eyelashes, and raises a hand in the universal signal for _‘come here’._

Klaus, eyes wide, raises his tattooed palms up and pulls a face that clearly says _I’m not going anywhere near that disaster._

Allison closes her eyes. Typical. _I guess I’ll be waiting out the storm myself,_ she thinks, resolutely. Vanya is having a well-deserved breakdown – who knows how long that could take? Allison is willing to wait forever. Alone, if she has to.

But Klaus’ words seem to have shattered the tension, and Allison’s brothers relax slightly, their posture changing. They look exhausted – near dead, a couple of them, but for all their talk of _‘doing whatever it takes’_ and having _no choice_ , they all look incredibly relieved to not have killed their sister.

“How are you doing that?” Five asks, an edge to his voice. He steps forward, watching Vanya warily, but Allison thinks there could be hope in his expression. The pouring rain, not letting up, makes him look like a tiny, drowned rat, his hair pitch black and falling in his eyes. “How?” He repeats, and stares.

She squints at him.

“She can’t answer you, moron,” Diego says, keeping his voice at a weirdly respectable whisper, like he doesn’t want to disturb the moment. “Remember?”

Five scowls, face flushing red, as teenagers are prone to. “Of _course_ I remember.” He kicks his shoe through the water on the ground.

Clicking her fingers to get his attention, Allison points at him, and then at Vanya. _Hug her._

“I _don’t_ think that’s a good idea,” he says, frowning.

She furrows her eyebrows at him, glaring, and beckons more forcefully. _Get over here!_

Five clenches his jaw, skirting around them. If it were anyone else, she’d think he was nervous – but it’s Five, and so he just seems suspicious. Allison sighs internally, shutting her eyes and pressing her face into the top of Vanya’s head. _Men._

But then thin, bony arms are encircling her and Vanya apprehensively; like someone who doesn’t know how to hug, is trying to give one.

“I’m so sorry _, I’m so sorry_ ,” Vanya cries, shivering, tripping over her words, still barely aware of her surroundings.

“Vanya, calm down,” Five murmurs, talking low. He’s about the same height as Vanya – he speaks directly into her ear, very quietly. “You’re hyperventilating.”

“ _Five,_ ” Vanya gasps, and the rain starts coming down even harder. “Oh _God_ , I’m sorry—”

“Just breathe,” he says. “You’re alright.”

“I’m not,” Vanya wails, her voice cracking. “I’m broken, I’m dangerous! You’re in danger!”

“We won’t be,” Five says, “if you just calm down.”

Vanya continues to cry. Allison sends Five a look. He purses his lips, irritated, and then glances back at Vanya, his expression immediately softening. Allison is hit with a sudden sense of nostalgia – that’s right. Five and Vanya used to be best friends – it annoyed Allison to no end when they were children. She never understood why he chose to spend his free time in the library, listening to Vanya practice while the rest of them played together in the courtyard.

Having heard Vanya’s playing, now, Allison finally understands it.

She regrets so many things.

“What I _meant_ to say,” Five says quietly, “is that you’re not going to hurt anyone. You need to take deep breaths.”

“But – but I have hurt people, _killed_ people,” Vanya sobs. “I’ll hurt _you!_ You have – you have to get away from me! I’ll kill you!”

“No, you won’t,” he says. He sounds very certain. “I know you, Vanya. You don’t want to hurt anyone. You’re calming down, aren’t you?”

“No, no. You have to let me go,” Vanya pleads faintly, gasping, her nose poking into Allison’s collarbone. She starts to slump, and Allison, weak from her injury, struggles to keep her standing. She _refuses_ to let her go.

“We’re not going to,” Five warns her, and Allison feels him hold onto the two of them just a bit tighter. “All right? We’re staying here.”

Suddenly Klaus is there, his hand on Vanya’s. “Yeah, Van. We’re here, you can chill.”

“Everything’s gonna b-b-be okay,” Diego says gruffly, coming over as well, his voice choked with emotion, surprising Allison. “We got you, sis.”

Luther’s hand comes to rest on Allison’s shoulder, and then, slowly, gently, he places the other one on Vanya’s. “They’re right,” he says, looking incredibly apologetic and lost. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

Vanya’s breathing starts to even out, her racking sobs subsiding, much to Allison’s relief. Allison turns her face up to the rain.

_Is Ben here too?_ Allison wonders, tears pricking her eyes once again. She chooses to believe that he is.

“I’m sorry,” Vanya says, and then she passes out.

Allison and Five do their best to lower her to the ground gently. Allison winces – they’re essentially laying her down into a giant puddle.

The rain stops, just as suddenly as it had begun.

The Hargreeves stand and catch their breath, none of them quite knowing what to say.

“Well,” Luther says eventually, clearing his throat. “That wasn’t the end of the world.”

“No.” Five picks up Vanya’s violin, examining the strange, unnaturally bleached wood thoughtfully. He seems like he could be in shock. “It wasn’t.”

“So, uh, did we stop it?” Klaus puts his hands up. “Just clarifying. Because I don’t want to celebrate too early—”

Allison smacks his shoulder. He drops his hands, laughing. He sounds a little crazed – she gets it. She’s feeling slightly manic herself. She gathers Vanya into her lap, stroking her hair carefully, and finds herself smiling despite everything.

“We did it,” Luther says. He sounds so happy about it, and he crouches down beside Allison and holds Vanya’s slack hand. “We saved the world!” Diego pumps a fist in the air. Five paces around the stage.

“And we did it wearing bowling shoes,” Klaus says. “We _are_ incredible.”

“Shut up,” Diego groans. “And I don’t know who this _‘we’_ is. That was all Allison.” He nods at her, pride in his voice.

Allison shakes her head, points at Vanya. _It was her._

Five quits his pacing and sits down heavily on Allison’s other side, still holding the violin, making a splash as he does so. Allison carefully takes his hand.

“Thanks,” he says after a while, “for not taking the shot.”

She flushes. Technically – she had given up and accepted her fate, not concocted a master plan. But she thinks he knows that.

“I’m glad it was you up there and not me,” Five goes on, looking at Vanya’s sleeping face. “I… wouldn’t have made the same choice.” He blinks, and looks away. “So – thank you.”

She brushes their shoulders together. She thinks of Claire, waiting for her in L.A, safe and sound.

“So what do we do now?” Klaus asks, holding some kind of metal necklace in his hand as he twirls around them, giddy. “We have one very water-damaged, um, collapsing theatre and a whole lotta dead guys here.”

“The mansion’s gone,” Luther says, hunched over. “So’s Pogo… and Mom.” Diego looks away angrily at that, his lip trembling.

“We can’t all fit in Diego’s basement,” Klaus says.

“We should take Vanya back to her apartment,” Five decides. “And wait for her to wake up there.”

No one has any better ideas, the exhilarated mood evaporating as reality sets in, so they stand in a ridiculous circle holding hands. Five manages to jump them all the way to Vanya’s apartment right before the police burst into the Icarus, and he collapses onto her couch immediately, leaving the rest of them to figure out what to do.

Luther carries Vanya into her bedroom and lays her down – Allison removes her boots, tie and soaking wet suit-jacket, and then tucks her in, pulling up a chair beside the bed and gripping her sister’s hand. She’ll wait. As long as it takes.

Luther ends up carrying the now-unconscious Five in as well, putting him on the other side of Vanya, on top of the blanket.

“They’re friends, right?” He says, and Allison is surprised he remembers. Guilt is written clear across his face, tired and withdrawn. She wants to hug him, and tell him that everything worked out okay – but knows that this isn’t the time. “She’ll want him here when she wakes up.”

Allison nods. She mouths, _thank you._

“You should let us change your bandage,” he says, lingering. “That one’s all wet now.”

Allison hesitates, looks at Vanya.

“Later,” Luther says, bobbing his head. “Okay. Um, we’ll be out here if you need us.”

He doesn’t say anything else, fidgeting, and then he goes back into the living room with Diego and Klaus – and Ben, Allison hopes. Although that’s something to process another day. He shuts the door behind him.

In the corner of the room, someone has carefully balanced Vanya’s white violin on her dressing table. Allison stares at it. It almost seems as if it’s glowing. She isn’t sure how much time passes – she thinks about what she’ll do if Vanya freaks out – if she _lashes_ out. But she hates the idea of being afraid of her own sister – Vanya’s trust will be hard to win back. But it will be worth it.

Eventually, Five wheezes, suddenly awake and disoriented.

“Where—” he starts, and Allison quickly puts a finger to her lips, and points to Vanya. “Ah.” He relaxes slightly, understanding smoothing out his features.

But she wasn’t quick enough – Vanya is stirring.

Five looks at Allison, panicking, as Vanya’s eyelids flutter, and she wakes. Allison could almost cry at the sight of those warm brown eyes.

“Wh… Five?” She croaks, bewildered, dazed, her eyes half shut in the semi-darkness. “Allison? What are you doing here?”

Allison’s pulse spikes – Vanya isn’t fully lucid. She doesn’t remember.

“We were waiting for you to wake up,” Five says carefully.

“Oh. Did you see my concert?” Vanya slurs, her hand limp in Allison’s. “I saved you seats.”

Five pauses, and then swallows. He glances at Allison.

For a long, quiet moment, she just looks at Vanya, and at the moonlight splashing across her pale, tired face. She thinks, once again, of when they were all so young, and so _stupid_ , and every hurtful thing she said and did. How often did Vanya cry herself to sleep out of loneliness? How many times did Allison notice her in the halls with tears on her cheeks and say nothing?

This wasn’t Vanya’s fault. It wasn’t Allison’s fault, either, or Luther’s, or Five’s. This was the culmination of a lifetime of misery and isolation, twenty-nine years of miniscule acts of neglect and pain and resentment, a hundred missed chances, a thousand times they could have called but didn’t, a million words that were never shared.

Looking at her sister now, vulnerable and half-asleep, Allison thinks of the awful conversation they’ll need to have in the cold light of morning, the days of torment and guilt and self-hatred that will surely follow…

And she knows that every little hurt counts.

She and Five can spare Vanya this one.

The two of them share a heavy glance over their sister’s oblivious head, and then;

“Yeah,” Five says, so softly, leaning forward and brushing a hand through Vanya’s tangled hair tenderly. Allison’s heart clenches. “All of us came and saw you perform. You were incredible, V. You played so well; we’re all so proud of you.”

“Really?” Vanya mumbles happily, already sliding back into sleep. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he says.

She’s already drifting. “Love you,” Vanya murmurs, so quietly Allison can hardly hear it.

Five freezes, gazing down at her. Allison presses a kiss to the back of Vanya’s hand, letting her tears fall freely. _I love you too,_ she mouths silently, desperately.

“We love you too,” Five says, finally, and they hold their breath in the silence and wait until Vanya slips back into unconsciousness.

**Author's Note:**

> I love you all!!
> 
> I hope you loved that fic as much as I do.
> 
> You can and should come find me on instagram at bubbly_washing_machine, I draw a lot of TUA fanart and I would honestly love to chat with you guys so idk, just come DM me I'm really friendly and I love talking about TUA!!! aaaa I'm gonna miss ya'll so much!! I've enjoyed this month so much, it's been really rewarding and fun and I'm so glad I participated in the challenge.
> 
> Hope to see you sometime in the future, friends. Peace out <3


End file.
